


Interlude: 1962

by Not_You



Series: A Nest Of Snakes [6]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Canon Related, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Rescue, Rescue Missions, mom shot dad but only a little bit so it's also okay, ocelot was stolen but it's okay his parents and adopted uncles stole him back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 15:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17645537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Grandpa and Uncle Ocelot were always very close.





	Interlude: 1962

Mama and Papa take turns telling Adam his bedtime story. When it’s Mama’s turn, she tells him about brave knights and their adventures, and when it’s Papa’s turn, he tells Adam Russian stories, about dark woods and witches and birds made of fire. Some of them are scary, but all of them are more interesting than scary, and Papa’s voice when he tells them makes Adam feel sleepy. But sometimes, Papa tells his little Adamska a true story. It’s his favorite, probably because it’s partially about him. Papa always tells it quietly, and cuddles close to Adam, like it’s some kind of secret from Mama even though she was there.

Adam doesn’t remember the part where the School stole him, he was too little. And he wasn’t there for the part where Mama and Papa and his uncles all got together to steal him back, but he remembers the rest of it. Papa doesn’t talk much about the beginning part, anyway. He talks more about sneaking in, how all of them worked so hard to be stealthy. Uncle Bees, Uncle Fire, and Uncle Bird aren’t very good at it, so they stayed outside to keep the escape route clear. Mama and Papa and Uncle Face are all really good at being sneaky, though, so they crept into the house where the School was keeping Adam that night. There were cameras and infra-red beams, but they had been learning about those for months and snuck right by them. Mama had almost hit one once, but Papa stopped her in time.

The most interesting part of the story for Adam is always the moment where they find him. Even with the alarms disabled, Adam had known something was going on. Mrs. Smith was asleep in the next room, and he hadn’t really thought about waking her. There had been a lot of Mrs. Smiths, and this one wasn’t particularly nice to him. He had decided to wait and see, collecting his gun, his knife, and Mr. Peppers, the spare sock exactly like all the other socks. Real toys always ran the risk of being confiscated, but there are times even now that Adam really needs something soft and friendly, and he had been littler then. He has real toys now, but he also still has Mr. Peppers.

“Your uncle opened the door for us,” Papa says in his soft, quiet voice, “because he knew it might be trapped, and wanted to make sure that if anyone got hurt, it wasn’t your mama or me. We were too busy to say thank you then, but we did later.”

“And there I was,” Adam says, snuggling closer in against Papa’s chest, tucked in under one strong arm.

Papa smiles. “And there you were. You were so little and brave that we would have loved you even if you weren’t ours, but we could feel that you were. Your mama meant to be careful and introduce herself properly, but she just had to hug you.”

That part had been weird, because Adam had been pretty sure he should feel scared, and should be looking for vulnerable points to defend himself, but somehow he had known it was all right. Even though Mama was crying and crying always got people in trouble, even though Adam didn’t know her, it had felt right, somehow.

Now Adam nods, and puts his hand on the place where Papa’s scar is. “And you were still hurt,” he says.

“It didn’t hurt so much by then,” Papa says softly, but Adam remembers the red bandages in the safehouse afterward, and the noise Papa couldn’t help making when Mama had changed them. 

Now Papa pushes his shirt and his undershirt up so that Adam can touch the shiny-smooth white scar on the right side of Papa’s chest. Mama did it, but Adam understands. Sometimes love is hard. Now he rests his hand on that smooth, hard spot in Papa’s smooth, soft skin, and just feels it, and feels Papa’s heartbeat. Adam is used to ciphers and codes and nothing real being safe, so he doesn’t say, ‘I love you, Papa.’ That might never be safe, but it’s safe to press a pinky to pointer finger sequence around Papa’s scar. Papa presses the same sequence onto Adam’s back, and he shivers happily.

“Tell the rest of it, Papa,” Adam says, after Papa stays quiet for a while. Adam knows what happened, but he likes to hear it.

“While your mama held you, your uncle and I made sure everything was safe. And then we gave you Red, and I gave you a hug, and we carried you out, where the rest of your uncles were waiting.” Red is Adam’s stuffed cat, and he hugs her with the arm that isn’t hugging Papa, laid across his chest.

“Uncle Bees was silly,” Adam says.

“Uncle Bees is silly,” Papa says, and Adam giggles.

“I’m glad he got to drive the car,” Adam says, and Papa makes a face. Papa never likes it when Uncle Bees drives, but Adam thinks it’s fun.

“You were very good during all the shooting,” Papa says, and as always, that makes Adam feel proud, even if it had been easy to do. Once he had realized that no one was going to let him watch, he had curled up and played very quietly with Mr. Peppers, not getting in the way. He was so little at the time that his gun was just for babies, anyway, a little airsoft pistol that he still has, even if Mama is teaching him about real guns. She hadn’t wanted to, but when Adam had tried to teach himself she had gotten so upset that Adam had been afraid they would give him back. He knows better now, but snuggles a little closer to Papa anyway. “After we were sure no one was following us anymore,” Papa says, “we went to the safehouse.” They’re in their house now, and safer than they were in the safehouse, but that’s just how words work.

“I remember it was dark and you were still hurt,” Adam says, “but I liked it there.”

Papa chuckles. “It was comfortable, and we had you, so I didn’t mind being hurt. And we had the radio.” Adam is still sad that Gunsmoke isn’t on the radio anymore, and sighs. Papa kisses the top of Adam’s head. He knows that the TV version just isn’t the same. “That first night, we tucked you in between us and slept while your uncles watched for trouble.”

“It was warm,” Adam says, because it was. It had been strange, but definitely not bad-strange.

“We were so tired,” Papa says, “but we kept waking up to make sure you were still there.”

“And I was,” Adam says. He was, and Uncle Face made him some pancakes when it really was morning. Uncle Face knows how to make them special shapes, and had done his best to make a wasp for Uncle Bees.

“And you were,” Papa agrees, the equivalent of everyone living happily ever after in a made up story. He kisses Adam on the head again, and then sits up, stretches his arms, and stands up, turning to make sure the blankets are tucked in just right. There’s more to the story, about coming here and meeting the horses, but this is enough for now. Adam curls up around Red and drifts to the sleep to the sound of Mama and Papa’s quiet voices as they talk to each other in the next room.


End file.
